Thursday, April 5, 2012

Unsolicited Fashion Advice

A brief word on today's fashions. Specifically on some common fashion mistakes people tend to make, not because they are bad people, but because they haven't updated their style since they graduated high school.

First item on the chopping block... "Turquoise Anything" Let me state this as plainly as possible; not only has there never been an item of clothing that looked good in turquoise, but turquoise has NEVER even been in style! There is always a better color option. For instance; if you ever find yourself holding up two cute tops, one in turquoise, the second in some other color, guess what! You are only holding ONE cute top! Don't say I didn't warn you. I might be the only person who loves you just enough to be honest with you. Who else is going to give you honest feedback on those turquoise pants? Your friend? Your spouse? Your lover!? These people are spineless and only looking out for their best interest.

And on the note of colored pants. There are precious few situations where you can get away with wearing bright colored pants. Say for instance you are the lead singer of a massively popular band, AND it is 1972. Then you are well within the limits of what can be considered acceptable, and have nothing to worry about.

A second condition in which you can likely pull off wearing bright colored pants is if you happen to be very, and I mean VERY attractive. Like so attractive that nobody is going to remember what color your pants were wearing anyway. Like so attractive that when a wife has to slap her husband on the back of his head, to get him to stop staring at you, she actually gets caught up in how attractive you are, and also stares until you are out of sight and then apologizes to her husband for slapping him.

Now some advise for the guys:

Goatee's, along with frost n' tipped hair are OUT! Goatee's have been out since the mid 1990's. The only business you have sporting a goatee, is if you also drive a jacked up truck and wear you hats backwards. But this is were it gets complicated because wearing your hat backwards is only okay if you are playing inter-mural flag football, or if you are Sylvester Stallone and you are trying to win an Arm-Wrestling contest so that you can provide for your spoiled, estranged son, with whom you recently reconnected.

I really don't know where to start with frost n' tipped hair. This was secretly out, even when it was in. (Which was a long, long time ago). I am still surprised every time I run across a dude who is still "frostin' his tips". Really it's the turquoise pants of hair styles.

Now you may ask, "Who made you the authority?!" Well let me answer your question with a question. Do I need to be an authority to tell you not to jump off a 20 story building without a parachute? Would I need to possess some extra-special knowledge of the law to advise you against selling pure, uncut heroine, in the parking lot of a middle school? I hope not my friend. So take it or leave it. But know this; I speak the truth! The pure, uncut truth...

Monday, March 19, 2012

Prison Rich

Sometimes when I look around my house at all the random stuff I have, I think, how much is this worth... in prison? Because I think everything is probably worth more in prison. A lot more. And I'm not just talking about my homemade tattoo gun, or my collection of large nails, with crude handles fashioned out of masking tape.

I first had this idea when I was opening a can of tuna and was thinking about how sharp that can lid was, and how quickly I could cut myself if I weren't careful. "Eeeeasy boy," I thought to myself as I peeled the lid back. But then I thought, what if I were in prison, and had this tuna-can lid?

I'll bet someone would pay good money, or a bunch of smokes, or even a smaller, weaker prisoner for a good, sharp can lid! Then I really started thinking about it in realistic terms. If I had the tuna lid, I could fasten it to the end of a stick or an old tooth brush and make a formidable weapon. Then, I could just take those items from other prisoners, couldn't I? Because, whose going to mess with the guy with the tuna-can lid?

It seems like in that scenario, prison wouldn't be half bad. Unless someone else had thought to smuggle in a tuna-can lid. Or, heaven forbid, one of those giant lids off of a gallon sized can of stewed tomatoes! I guess that guy could pretty much write his own ticket, huh? Dang, I wish I had thought of that first. If only I hadn't gotten so distracted by that stupid tuna can.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


This week during a work meeting, the topic of heroes was brought up. An in depth discussion followed, in which everyone had the opportunity to talk about the people who had inspired or influenced them, and ultimately shaped their futures.
I used that opportunity to explain that in many cases, I am less drawn to the classic heroes that have dotted our rich history, either as Americans or as Humans. Instead, I explained, I tended to reserve my admiration for those who served as mentors and teachers to these historic figures. The people who shaped them. The people who they looked up to as examples.
I have to admit I was a bit surprised by the negative response I received. Some people openly scoffed at my perception of a hero and challenged my judgment at choosing those I had, to serve as my examples. Many felt I was not being "realistic" in my assertion that these individuals deserved just as much credit as those whom they had guided to greatness.
Nevertheless, my mind remains unchanged. I felt even more resolved to share with others, my appreciation for these lesser known persons, who if nothing else, have inspired me to be who I am today.
#1 - So little was known about my first hero, that we have nothing more than his last name and of course his legacy, to remember him by. His name was Mr. Miyagi. During the early 80's when Mr. Miyagi happened across a young Daniel LaRusso. He saw some greatness there that others had either missed or ignored. He determined then and there to make Daniel into the man he was meant to become. In the end, Daniel learned a lot more than Ka-ra-te and the perfect execution of the crane-kick. He learned the true meaning of what it means to ask ones self "Live or die man.... Live or die?"
#2 - Colonel Sam Trautman. Don't recognize the name? Well I'm not surprised. But I can tell you one person who hasn't forgotten who Sam Trautman is. Maybe his name will sound a bit more familiar.... John? John Rambo?
Whether he was drawing first blood, stick fighting in a Cambodian brothel, or mowing down Russian's along side Afghanie warriors. Rambo would be the first to tell you he had learned every bit of it from Col. Trautman as part of his secret training to become a Green Barret. I for one will never forget his role in extending the lives of the innocent, and abruptly ending the lives of evil doers, world-wide.
#3 - And finally, some may argue that Punky Brewster is not actually a hero in the traditional sense, but that is a decision you will have to make for yourself my friend. But I doubt any reasonable person will argue the heroic status of Henry Warnimont, her adopted caregiver and psudo grandfather.
Here's to you Henry! I will never forget how you found Punky break-dancing in the empty apartment across the hall, or the time you took that humiliating job at mall, and had to wear a camera helmet. Yours was a voice of reason throughout those turbulent adolescent years. Not just for Punky, but for all of us.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Air Strikes

I don’t understand why the use of air-strikes has been limited to the Middle-East and Afghanistan. Doesn’t it seem like we are needlessly depriving ourselves of a really effective law enforcement tool here at home? I for one would feel more secure in the knowledge that a remote-controlled Predator Drone was buzzing around somewhere over head, ever vigilant and ready to drop bombs or fire missiles at the first sign of trouble.

Imagine how quickly you would put an end to things like high-speed car chases, cross-border drug smuggling, prison riots, and most stand-off’s in general.

It would only take once wouldn’t it? You would see the initial news story about an armed man, who has barricaded himself inside his house. The SWAT team is preparing to enter, but then somebody has the idea… “Hey, lets just call in an air-strike!” What a great idea!” everyone would say, patting the guy on the back. (Because everybody loves a good air-strike). Of course, they would have to give the belligerent drunkard inside at least one firm warning before the blew the whole place to kingdom-come. But after one or two news stories ending with a precision bombing, armed gunmen everywhere would start weighing their options a bit more carefully. I am guessing that the lists of demand’s would get a lot shorter and that they would almost always start with #1 – Don’t fire any guided missiles into this building… Too late!… Boom!!! Problem solved.

Imagine how differently the OJ Simpson chase down that freeway in L.A. would have ended. “Attention Mr. Simpson… Pull that white Bronco over before the next exit, or we are literally going to blow you up in spectacular fashion.” Breaks would have promptly been applied and a collective grown of disappointment would have been heard across America.

Thus far, I don’t really see any flaws in such an approach. Sure there would be plenty of property damage and some cleanup would be necessary, but any money lost on property damage would easily be recouped in saved legal fees and a the new market for “air-strike cleanup” would give the small business sector just the shot in the arm it needs.

At this point, I am not going to say this is a perfect plan. But I'm also not going to say it isn't

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Mini Shopping Carts

I want to go on record and publicly voice my disapproval of the mini-shopping carts that have been systematically replacing hand baskets in many super-markets.

I have always found the entire shopping experience to be emasculating enough without having to push around something that looks like it belongs as part of a shopping themed Barbie-Doll set.

The hand basked has historically provided men with an alternative to pushing an entire shopping cart. And unless you carried it in crook of your elbow, you could still pull off a pretty manly look, while shopping for baby food, organic soy milk and feminine hygiene products.

Now with the advent of these mini-carts, your only choice is to pick between carts, or do like I do and load up 50 lbs of groceries in your arms and then try to casually walk around with your neck veins popping out as you strain to carry 2 gallons of milk, a large cantaloupe, a jumbo pack of toilet paper, a bundle of bananas, a loaf of bread and a family pack of chicken thighs.

My only comfort comes from seeing 5 other guys in the checkout line; veins popping, beads of sweat gathering on their foreheads, refusing to give in to the mini-cart craze. As we exchange subtle gestures of solidarity, my milk jugs and the cantaloupe somehow begin to feel lighter.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Global Warming?

I have an inconvenient truth for my all my environmentalist friends out there... You are trying to sell this global warming business to the wrong crowd if you are anywhere north of Arizona state line.
I am not so concerned about whether or not people accept global warming as a scientific fact. I think the bigger and more realistic problem is that even if you convince people living in cold climates that global warming is real, they will think it is awesome. When you are finished explaining to these people that their climate is going to get warmer, and that rising sea levels will mostly affect people in California, they are still going to be waiting for the bad news... Allow me to set the scene.
A well educated Ph.D. of some sort is at a town hall meeting, somewhere deep in red-America, doing his best to explaining to the locals about the dangers of global warming. Upon finishing his spirited presentation a hand is raised and the following conversation takes place.

Farmer - "Errrrr..., uhhhh..., was there supposed to be a warning in there somewhere Mr. science man?"
Ph.D. - "Aren't you listening you stupid hick!? I said there would be no more severe winter weather!"
Farmer - "Uh huh."
Ph.D. - "Summer would be like 6 months long!"
Farmer - "Yes sir..."
Ph.D. - "And all those intellectual types living along the coasts, who hate your stinkin' guts, because of your morals and values, would lose their houses!"
Farmer, (now speaking very slowly and carefully enunciating his words) - "I'm with you so far... Now, at what point does the bad stuff start happening?"

They would likely go on like that for hours.

The Ph.D. could also warn them about how their land would become insanely valuable, and how the extra rain would likely turn their entire area in to a tropical paradise, and how the women of that area, would of course become more attractive as the warm summer sun kept their skin golden-brown, all year round, forcing them to wear less, if any clothing at all....

No,... I am sorry Mr. Science man. While all of that sounds perfectly awful to me, I think you will have to come up with a more convincing argument if you expect to get anywhere with these people.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

30 Years Old

Today is my 30th birthday. (That's me in the picture)
I remember when I was a kid and 30 seemed so old. Now that I am there, it seems even older. In recent months I have started to find gray hairs peeking out here and there. The transformation has already started! Before I know it, my kids will be helping me eat and dabbing slobber off my chin!

Maybe I am being melodramatic about this whole thing, but I don't think so. What I do think is that everyone else is not being dramatic enough!

They say that men are like fine wine, in that they get better with age. And I guess this is true... If your name is Sean Connery or George Clooney. Aside from those two people, everyone else just gets older with age.

Better with age my foot! Do you know who made up that saying? The same group of liars that said "Winning isn't everything" and "All you can do is you best". Well let me give you a little reality therapy buddy. Your best wasn't good enough and you lost! And now you will never get another chance, because that was your last year of high school and you blew it! Now you will never date the prom queen (whoever that was?) and before you know it, you will be 30 years old and considering which shade of "Just for Men" is right for you! Dang you George Clooney, for setting the bar so high!!!

Now I can already hear your rebuttals and arguments:

"But Shea, you're still the best looking guy I know."


"I would kill for your intellect at any age!"


"Of all your over-achieving, nerdy siblings, who thought they were so special excelling in remedial classes, taught at a stupid, second rate high-school, getting 4.0 GPAs and scholarships while you were still struggling through math 101, not because you were stupid, but because you were too busy partying with all the cool kids, every night of the week to waste time studying for some dorks test, who hates you anyway, because you nic-named him "Poop-Tooth", which was less of a nic-name and more of an actual description, that you inavertently blurted out during an assembly!!!....!!....! (Deep Breath)...... What was I saying?... Oh nevermind. I just wanted you to admit that I was the best looking person you know and that my siblings were all nerds.